


Be The One; to take me home

by marsakat



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Abduction, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst and Humor, Captivity, M/M, Mind Control, Science Fiction, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsakat/pseuds/marsakat
Summary: Tyler had never believed. He had teased Josh for his insistence that there was life among the stars. But now there was no denying where he was, and the journey home awaited.





	1. awake. alone.

**Author's Note:**

> _Where we're from, there's no sun  
>  Our hometown's in the dark_

He woke upon cold metal vibrating with the constant drone of a distant engine as they plunged into the beyond. His body felt as if it had been compressed and stretched several times; limbs awkward and unresponsive for however long he lay with his cheek pressing into the floor.

His brain wasn't working; he didn't know who he was, where he was being held, and why did he even have to move. His recollections of life before this moment of awakening were hazy. He knew he existed as a person and memories were somewhere in his brain, but they were locked up behind the clouds.

He fell asleep again and woke up. How many times had he done that and forgotten? At least he remembered this most recent time where he first became acquainted with the feel of the floor.

He peeled his eyelids back with a groan he didn’t know he was capable of making and saw blurry shapes in the dim light.  Other bodies were lying next to him too. Some more figures stood over them, watching. His eyelids grew heavy and he let them drift shut as a figure moved directly at him. He didn't know whether to be fearful or not, but either way, he didn't possess the energy to make himself look any more diminished or inconsequential. He had been noticed.

He was nudged and he responded with another soft groan. An eruption of growling, clicking, and consonants spewed from whoever was examining him. A second voice further away chimed it. It wasn't long before they were grabbing Tyler—ah yes, that was his name, he remembered—under his arms to pull him upwards.

They shook him until he opened his eyes; only a fraction of an inch, unable to go any further. Tyler was aching and ready to return to the dreamless void, to leave the awareness of being treated like a feelingless object. He couldn't even care that his feet and knees were being dragged as the people carried him away from his little home on the metal floor. 

They marched while Tyler continued to slip in and out of consciousness.  Different doors opened and closed around them, and the light changed behind his eyelids.  In the darkest room since the one he had awoken in, they dipped his hand into something painfully cold and liquid.  Tyler shivered and tried to pull back but the grip encircling his wrist kept him in the water.

“S-stop!” he begged, and his hand was withdrawn, but instead the water was dumped on him. Tyler spluttered and shouted, eyes flying open fully. His senses were confronted by creatures that shocked him back into silence.

Their heads were terrifying, with twisted faces of orange eyes and tusks protruding from gaping mouths.  The huge heads were propped on massive bodies that made Tyler consider how much smaller he truly was. They were holding him up by hands that could be better described as pinchers.  They wore black armor that reflected no light over tough, dirty-yellow skin. Even without his memories, Tyler knew he had never seen anything before so horrific.

Wet and shaking, he was tossed upon a hard chair that propped him up enough that his captors could examine him even closer.  He watched them speak their grating language, and tried to hold back cries of fear as they gripped his jaw between their blunted claws and turned his head one way and another.  What were they planning to do? His mind spun with trying to remember  _ anything _ that had led to this moment and all he could recall was a massive amount of green light and a hand slipping from his.  Tyler knew pain was going to happen to him shortly, he just didn’t know where.

They let go of him, and the clatter of metal objects on a table behind him told that they were almost ready.  Tyler tried to focus on something else as a machine buzzed to life, his attention falling to the clothing left on his body.  A tattered yellow hoodie—stained and ripped, jeans that held the cold water and made him freeze, and red shoes that looked singed.  He couldn’t…he didn’t…the yellow.

Mustard.

A blazer, an orange jumpsuit—a video.   _ He remembers the words and the song and the thousands of faces singing back to him. _ Tyler remembers his music, writing in his parent’s basement, their faces coming to him suddenly  _ oh God, where were they? How did he get here with these creatures…these…aliens? _ Aliens… Josh! Josh with dark black hair that smiled to him in the rental house, the sun rising through the window that first night they spent together—to the Josh who played on that glowing stage, too.

And then he was startled from his reverie as the buzzing object was pressed and dragged across his head.  There was no pain, just the brush against his neck as hair fell like snowflakes. They were shaving him, and Tyler shouldn’t mind since he’d done that before to himself, but this time, it was humiliating with four aliens watching him become bare.  He had no control over what was happening to his body. He was losing his identity.

When satisfied, the shaver yanked Tyler’s head forward and they applied something cold and numbing to the skin at the base of his head—the dip at the top of the neck.  He watched enough alien shows with Josh late at night to guess what could possibly be happening next. Tyler would not allow them to do this without a fight.

He lashed out and screamed with all his might, pulling his head from the pressure of the scalpel, but it didn’t matter.  They were ready for him, pinning Tyler down into the chair and in a moment, he felt the hot sting of the blade across the back of his head.  They had done this thousands of times, and Tyler wasn’t the first nor would he be the last to try to fight it. Two small, glowing chips slipped easily into the incision and with the close proximity to Tyler’s brainstem, all his movement ceased.  A third matching chip was inserted right under the skin on the top of his head, creating a circuit that put him under their control completely. A final chip with a red blinking light was placed right on the bony ridge of his sternum.

They let him rest after the procedure, simply breathing quietly until all the preliminary systems checks were completed and he could stand to walk unsupported but electronically directed to a new room.  There were no bodies on the floor; just many other blank-eyed, shaved persons of varying species and sizes. But the new discovery didn’t cause wonder or awe at the amount of living beings in the universe.  He was being told to just to stand and wait for instructions.

He didn’t gasp in amazement that he could now understand the words being spoken by their captors, just simply followed the orders like everyone else.   _ “Remove your clothes and line up to receive your uniforms.” _

There was no hesitation to strip naked and toss away their clothing, though Tyler gave a silent goodbye to his yellow hoodie.  A burn of loss tightened his chest and he rubbed at the spot. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything, the flash of cotton candy pink and laughter unnecessary for his current function.  

Tyler felt a wrenching deep inside him,  _ fight it _ , a voice screamed in his sore brain, but was it saying to fight the emotions or the orders?  What was his primary objective now?

He was jostled into line, realizing he needed to stay out of sight, was supposed to move forward with the crowd.  The warring voices in his head battled as to why they were doing this. They were united, but polarizing in their mission.  Tyler surrendered thought and let his feet command him.

He marched.


	2. captivity

The marching was endless. Day to night they marched. On the ship however, there was no sun to mark the passage of time—Tyler now knew that this was some sort of spacecraft similar to an aircraft carrier. 

As a platoon, a company, a regiment they marched everywhere together, becoming a single force for war and fighting. It was all part of their training, along with the weapons and the machines, and computers, and formations. The regime was designed for them to shed their individual thoughts more thoroughly than putting the chips into their brains.

That first night, the thousand or so new recruits were added to different companies and divided into platoons.  From there they were marched to their barracks by the aliens that were clearly in charge, and directions were barked to them. They changed into drab brown uniforms and took on numbers rather than a name.

It was easy to just follow the commands issued from their tusked captains as well as into their heads directly from the control loop. There was no punishment if one followed the programming, and it seemed for most there was no other thoughts present anyway to fight.

The captains watched closely that first week to see whose chips weren't working properly. They were quick to correct a misstep, and Tyler found out the hard way when his bunk was not made to the proper standards. 

The platoon was made of forty soldiers exactly, and their quarters were stark— just lined with bunks recessed into the metal wall. No objects were allowed in the middle of the room, which did not matter since nobody possessed anything of their own. Clothing was supplied daily after their showers, so storage wasn't necessary. 

The lights washed away color and were always on. Tyler craved the darkness, finding he couldn't ever fall asleep fully. There was no satisfaction from a good rest after such intense training, and endless formations. He dozed as soon as they were commanded to get into their beds, but the thin blanket provided couldn't block the light completely, nor were they given enough hours to recover. Either way, the dreams he had were far from comforting. Tyler figured that this sleep deprivation was all planned to break them. 

If Tyler was allowed to argue, he'd contend that his bed was always made to standard, but either way, the platoon leader was looking for someone to make an example to the rest of the platoon. Every day for that first month, they stood in line as the leader inspected each bunk. It took the better part of an hour, which seemed to drag for years as their still-aching bodies shook with hunger. Many fainted and found a kick to their ribs as the most sympathy they'd get. 

Tyler teetered many times, but gritted his teeth and clung to his silent count “ _ thirty three beds to go…. Quarter done.. twenty five to go…” _

His bunk was always inspected a little more than halfway, with just nineteen more to go. That time, the leader seemed to take longer than usual, and the others became restless. Everyone knew what was coming, and Tyler braced himself. 

“What is this?!” The tusked alien barked, pointing at the most minute of wrinkles. “You!” He whirled and pointed at Tyler. “Step forward.”

Tyler complied, anticipating and receiving a blow across the face from the captain’s baton that crackled with electricity that made the strike reverberate through his whole body. He fell, another hit to the back, and his whole body shuddered and spasmed as his muscles seized with the current. 

He was only slightly aware of the leader warning the rest of the platoon, threatening with more beatings and worse punishments. The control loop in his brain crackled painfully, but gave enough energy for his near broken body to stand again perfectly in line. It was just easier to listen.

* * *

 

Tyler liked how simple it was to surrender, and submitted after that first painful lesson. He didn't want to explore the memories that were returning to him, didn't want to know what he lost.  It was all too painful. But waking up night after night from nightmares that were so much better than what he was living through, he was forced to confront those hovering memories.

He would lie awake after dreaming about home and wonder what was happening to his family. They must've realized he was missing. Did they think he was dead? Was it better for them to think that than know he had no way of coming home anyway? 

The band, the music, the fans, and everything was stripped away just like his hair and identity. He was just SOL3e-j1. He was no one now.  All he had was the bunk to keep clean and exercises to complete, and that burned his soul to know how much he lost. After a while, the despair gave him the drive to fight against his programming. Slowly he started plotting ways to escape, each more impossible than the next.

Tyler knew there was something wrong with his brain long before he'd been stolen and placed on this ship. He battled with himself enough to know what it felt like to have polarizing directions. He needed to follow the rules to stay alive, but as more time passed, his controller chip seemed less effective and he realized that he didn't want to live like this. Tyler couldn't be a soldier, couldn't be a slave to these people. He needed to escape.

Color was stripped from the universe. Everything was in muted neutral shades that dulled the senses and made it easier to just march along. The bright skins and markings on his fellow soldiers grew less vibrant as time passed. Tyler no longer thought of them as aliens, since he too was one of them, far away from his own home.

Something small would trigger a memory and he'd miss Earth, miss his loved ones, miss the stupidest things so much he'd start to remember more. The first time he shot a blaster, Tyler thought of his brother and playing with water guns as kids. They had thought of various scenes to increase the odds and hype the excitement. Tyler was convinced they had played this exact scenario; fighting battles against imaginary green aliens.

He did see several green people in training too, but their eyes weren't huge and black. They were pea sized, and had to use their senses of smell and echolocation to move around. Tyler made a mental note to describe them to Zack when he got back.  He imagined acting out the constantly clicking and sniffing species.

Tyler made friends insofar as one can when forced to live with these people that are all so different from each other. The controllers kept anyone from real social interaction, and from showing any form of personality. It was clearly to discourage everyone from banding together. But at least he got some answers as to what was going on.

This was a Kryptich ship from the Quoae system that was currently violating a major intergalactic treaty in favor of stealing people from their planets and sending them to war against said treaty. Millions of people had been taken during this centuries-long conflict that had destroyed whole planets. The Kryptich weren't the only ones on 'the bad side' but they were the ones to provide the majority of the infantry. In just a few weeks they would be inspected and sent to battle, or onwards to specialized training.

He ruminated on the details he learned about this war, deciding that being in the general army meant certain death for him. Tyler was not a fighter, and lacked natural armor that some species had.  He had always been athletic but that could only take him so far. In their training exercises, Tyler had good aim and could run swiftly, but compared to others, being a human was a general disadvantage. 

Anyway, the Kryptich saw those infantry soldiers as the most expendable—he needed to find a job that wasn’t directly in the line of fire. And Tyler began to think… if he could just get his hands on a spaceship and learn to fly it, maybe that could be his ticket out.

They had lessons on the most rudimentary of flight skills, and Tyler absorbed this more than any other course they were taught. It wasn’t meant to be instructional for them, and neither were most of the other lessons. Specialized training was saved for those chosen; these were tests for aptitude. 

Those lessons were welcomed breaks from the hours of manual labor or running of practice battles. Sometimes they had the chance to sit down and work on communication equipment or learn to dismantle bombs. A few times they raced rovers, and Tyler could pretend it was just a real life version of Mario Kart—he didn’t even do so bad at that. It was something to boast about once he made it home; that all those hours of playing helped him survive and even beat some aliens in a faraway galaxy. 

Flying was the ticket out though, the dream. Their huge spaceship had hundreds upon hundreds of all different sized ships. Tyler watched and noticed how lax the security was around them—to much faith in the imprisoned soldiers’ programming. 

The class took place in a wonderfully cool and darkened simulation room. Each trainee was placed into a pod fitted with a standard flight control board practically universal to other spaceships, they were told. The pod bounced and shifted and shook to impersonate flight, and test the endurance of the cadets. 

They were assigned a simple enough mission to complete—take off from a space carrier like the one they lived on, fly in between asteroids to deliver some sort of cargo. Tyler was impressed by the realistic vibration of takeoff, could pretend he was about to escape from this prison. They had gotten a brief tutorial, and Tyler clicked through each of the prompts—as with any good technology, the ship could essentially fly itself. It was all following the navigational system, adjusting his course occasionally as space debris rushed at his screen.

He was almost to the final destination when the anticipated ambush happened—of course, Tyler thought, laughing to himself. For as weak and primitive as humans appeared compared with some of the species on this ship, Tyler was smug thinking that Earth video games far exceeded those of the Kryptich. Despite the predictable gameplay, he was excited to use the cannons. Spinning, turning, and diving; the ship had amazing control and movement. He could easily shoot the enemy ships even though they came from every direction.

Tyler found that he was starting to have  _ fun _ . He cheered when his last missile hit its target and then turned to enter the atmosphere of a planet he never heard of before. The gravity shook his seat and Tyler kept focus—it was the final test.

The landing wasn’t any harder than the take off or battle. Tyler leaned back, realizing that although he felt in control of the whole simulation, a lot hinged on his performance and his brown was just the slightest bit sweaty.

He was the first one to complete the simulation of all his platoon mates. The shell of his pod lifted to reveal his screen blinking “Mission: Success” to the disappointed faces of the others who had failed. He concealed his gloating, not wanting to turn everyone else against him, but Tyler saw the captain nod and take some notes. 

“e-j1, you may not die within the next month.” The captain remarked and moved to the next soldier. 

Tyler hoped he showed enough promise to be selected for the training program. He even felt a little twitch of pride in his heart to get something close to a compliment by a leader as he completed a flight simulation. As he watched the others finished, he saw that he was one of the few that finished without destroying the craft.

* * *

 

Even with a goal in mind and something to work towards, Tyler still had those days when he thought seriously about caving to the inevitable and stop trying. What was the point in hurtling to his fate when he could just let his mind slip away? When he could just exit through an airlock and let space take his body.

Those days he lost hope were always when he started to think about Josh. He couldn't remember much from the day he had been taken but he was very sure the last person to see him alive was Josh. They were on tour at the time, and if he screwed up his eyes to focus enough, he could remember something about Chicago, but those last weeks were hazy except for the green light and grasp of a hand.

The memories of Josh were happening more and more frequently. It felt like his face was haunting him. Tyler would be marching, as he did endlessly, and happen to glance to his side and see the drummer moving in the opposite direction. Tyler didn't dare step out of line, and he couldn't find the person that looked so much like his best friend when he tried for a second look. It was probably all a mirage— a craving for  _ home.  _

He hadn’t seen another human in the months since his capture, but there must have been others taken.  The Kryptich wouldn’t have pulled just one human from the planet. Among the thousands and thousands on this training ship, there had to be someone else from Earth, he reasoned.

Tyler found himself looking wildly around in the mess hall or anytime his platoon came upon another during marches or target practice. Josh was never there when he searched for him, only coming to Tyler's mind when he didn't expect him, when his brain was most vulnerable to memories.  It was distracting to hunt for that taste of home; he knew he needed to focus on exceeding the training program. He told himself to give up the hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyler Joseph survives alien abduction by playing video games. 
> 
> Also, wow he just tweeted for the first time yesterday and it’s trult a relief to know  
> -Dema, Trench, wherever he is has WiFi.  
> -he’s not actually kidnapped by aliens


	3. adaptation

* * *

The chips implanted under Tyler’s skin were objects of particular fascination. They itched profusely for the first month, and every once in a while they delivered an electric shock. Tyler examined them surreptitiously, toyed at the edge of the skin with forks and sharp objects, wondering what would happen if he pried them from his body. He’d seen enough science fiction shows, courtesy of Josh, to guess that at least one of them was a tracking device. He had to learn more about them in order to make a clean getaway, but all the other trainees were just as clueless as he, and the captains were not forthcoming with information.

It was by chance, however that he met just the right person to give him the valuable knowledge he needed.

Beyond their daily hours of training, everyone was randomly assigned work details to fill the time and keep them from socializing or plotting. Tyler was given kitchen cleaning duty, and the cook had a wealth of knowledge. She was called x-k267, and was an older soldier who’d miraculously survived years of combat. As reward for the loss of a foot and many successful missions, she was given this job and a cybernetic prosthetic. No soldier could ever be returned to their home planets, and could only hope for something like this. 

x-k267 was about eight feet tall and her blue skin was just as scarred as the planets they trained upon. She seemed to take a liking to Tyler, saying that he reminded her of a friend she made during the early years in the army. He didn't survive, and Tyler wondered if she fed him extra and told him everything as a way to atone for being unable to save that long lost friend. 

Over some leftover stew, several months into his capture, she explained the four chips, at the point of not caring how dangerous this information was to give to a new ‘recruit’. The one upon the top of his head was merely a conductor and had no real use besides helping to control the soldier. It could be disarmed temporarily with strong electricity or a point blank blast to the site by the stun setting on their guns. It would buy the person few hours of relief from the orders, though tricky to pull off and undoubtedly the captains would find out. 

The chip higher up on nape of his neck was the main controlling device, and its removal would activate the tracker in his chest and send a signal to the captains. The Kryptich would find him wherever he went, so it was critical to remove the tracker first, then the controller— though both had to happen practically simultaneously because the controller also had a tracker. 

The final device was intriguingly useful, and Tyler realized it necessitated the other devices. There was no control or tracking capabilities in its hardware— it was purely knowledge and skills. That was where the language translator was nestled and when the time came, more information would be uploaded. Information like how to fly a spaceship, maps of all the galaxies, specialized weapons and combat skills. All very, very useful to anyone trying to escape. 

“Where do I... I mean, when do they upload that? Where do they do that?” Tyler asked, aware that if anyone were to overhear them— though the kitchen was empty— they'd probably be reprogrammed or executed. 

x-k267 winked at him with the middle of her three eyes.  “The captains keep the scanners with them at all times—you’d see it on their belt if you were to get close…” 

She winked again, with the rightmost eye. “If you don't leave now, you're going to miss night call. You are dismissed.”

Tyler saluted, and rushed back to his barracks. The twisting maze of corridors on the Goliath of a shop had become second nature to him, which was necessary since his brain was buzzing, singularly focused on the knowledge he'd been given. It was tricky, thinking of how best to remove the chips, but there was a possibility. 

Now he wondered if he dared the risk to get the scanner. The information was priceless but how easily could be managed and did the winks mean that x-k267 was going to help him?

For the first time since he woke up on the metal floor to this military prison, his dreams were happy and hopeful.

* * *

They left the ship only to train on a large scale with the whole brigade upon abandoned planets. Tyler was certain these training exercises were just tournaments for the captains to strut whose company was the best. They had their war games at the mercy of the captains, most of which, but not all were Kryptich. Soldiers got maimed and even killed but it didn't matter because they were all replaceable.

He could feel his body getting stronger. There were no mirrors to see the transformation but Tyler noticed more muscles in his wiry arms. Bruises, blisters, and scrapes turned into calluses and scars all over his body. His head was kept shorn and he could imagine he looked intimidating. His mom would probably disparage how skinny he still was— probably would force good food on him, Tyler thought with a bittersweet longing. 

Tyler knew how to fight now. They had drills in hand-to-hand combat, shooting practice, tactical formations, and even bombing runs in spaceship simulators. He was part of the machine— an unnamed expendable in a video game he’d probably never play again. 

He didn’t feel pain the same way anymore. It nagged rather than debilitated, compartmentalized as he surged forward. Tyler didn’t know why he kept going— was there a failsafe programmed into his chips that prevented him from ending it all? Even the drive to get back to Earth and see his loved ones again, the homesickness that ached like a chronic stomach bug; that couldn’t be enough, but somehow Tyler woke up every day and carried out the commands barked by their leaders. 

Most days he wanted to escape. Tyler plotted while going through the motions of their training, and the threads of a plan began to weave together. But other days he just wanted to shut his brain off; the ping-pong effect of wavering between surrender and rebellion was exhausting. It was easy to march on and feel nothing. 

Slowly he became a soldier.

* * *

The last planet near the end of Tyler’s training time was barren and pockmarked, but whether it was from meteors or bombs, Tyler didn't know. Across the grey rocky terrain there were no cities or houses, just imposing towers of stone. Tyler could breathe the air here, and was thankful to not wear the special suits that were bulky and hot. As desolate as the landscape was, a slight breeze across his cheeks was rejoiced from the months of stale, recycled ship air.

Their uniforms were grey to match their surroundings, different too from the training drabs. All the battalions lined up on the great plain; thousands of soldiers at the ready for the assignments to be shouted. First there would be platoon against platoon competitions of hand-to-hand combat, Tyler's least favorite, and small mock-battles. The next day there would be a large assault that was just a variation of Capture the Flag.

Tyler listened with half attention as they announced match-ups. Others around him kept track of the standings, and murmured at who they bet would win. Apparently, there was money at stake—Tyler didn't know how they managed to get it, since no one was allowed coins—as well as rankings and glory. 

Names were called and Tyler instead looked out to the horizon. Were those buildings? Could that be a settlement? If he can breathe the air maybe he could liberate a bag of provisions and make his way there under cover of night?

He barely registered his platoon's name—something untranslatable that sounded like Cracker Jack—being called and they marched alongside another grey-clad mass. He slightly recognized people in this platoon purely because of their extra-unusual markings or bodies. But the most were formless and forgettable.

"You're in luck, e-j1," said z-h4, a Glaxon who had the bunk next to Tyler's. "They actually have an Earthling for you to fight this time."

"Huh? A Human?" For all he knew, it could have been an elephant—maybe their intelligence was advanced enough for the Kryptich to seize them too. 

At least for the practice fights, they paired the soldiers with others that were of the same species, or at least the same size.  In Tyler’s case, he’d been forced to fight anything between four and seven feet tall, and some were unfortunately lucky possessors of spikes or tails.  Size didn’t mean evenly matched, but a human would be…interesting to say the least in more reasons than just a fair fight.

They were marched to a marked area in the plain where the forty members of each platoon stood on either side of the fighting rectangle. The gravel crunched under their boots. Three fights at a time took place within the lines drawn through the fine pebbles with the only rules being do not blind, paralyze, or kill.  They would only end at a knockout.

It was over an hour before Tyler got to fight, and his eyes scanned the crowd across the court, dust kicked up from the fighting bodies obscuring his vision.  He couldn’t see any humans, just the multicolored, albeit muted, colors of his fellow soldiers.

“RAD12w-z3, SOL3e-j1, SZE1a-v4,” a Kryptich captain called on his side, while a non-Kryptich captain, a tall, thin blue alien, shouted “XED9r-f9, SOL3e-d1, UFA2e-m1,” to their own platoon.

Tyler took the middle spot, and had his first view of the opponent as the dust blew away in a short breeze.  He gasped.

All color had been drained from his universe until this moment.  Only his memories held vivid reds and blues and pinks, recalling the sunsets and hues of Earth.  In that moment, across from his challenger, his eyes exploded with greens and browns and oranges and a galaxy of swirling blue.  Nothing in existence could steal Tyler’s memory of that tattoo—he’d know it anywhere and even centuries from now he’d be able to draw every detail of it into his mind’s eye.

But there was no need to imagine, because only a few yards away from him with dulled eyes and a shaved head, was Josh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GASP! Josh!! 
> 
> I’m currently stuck in a hurricane so I decided to share this with you all and also I’ll be writing even further ahead.


	4. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing is ever easy

The realization hit Tyler like a bolt of lightning, the emotions overwhelming him greater than anything he ever felt in his life.  All these months of living here in training, numb to what was happening to him, Tyler found his purpose. He was relieved to not be alone in this, ecstatic to see his best friend, but utterly distressed that Josh was here suffering too.

It had been many months of being alone and stranded in this strange new world. The only touches he received were the pummeling he sustained from many practice fights, or the hits from his captain if he stepped out of line.  He craved contact, not even aware of how much he needed it until he was sprinting across the court to embrace Josh. Words were stuck in his throat—what could he possibly say to his best friend after so much hardship?

All Tyler could see was Josh, but there was nothing there in his eyes as Tyler ran towards him.  Colliding, Josh’s hands came up to shove Tyler in the chest. Winded, Tyler fell to the ground, and Josh was upon him in a second. 

The two of them had wrestled jokingly and for fun, many times over their years and years of friendship. It was something Tyler had done with a lot of his friends—carried over from teenage years and the thrill-seeking rush of their hormones. 

The fairness of the matching went only so far as their nearly exact height. Anyone could see that Josh had much more muscle mass over him— that's just how the two of them were built. But during those playfights in the past, back on Earth, Tyler was able to hold his own against Josh. The drummer’s strength was countered by Tyler’s tricks, developed from a lifetime of being skinny and slight. Tyler didn't ever give up, and would writhe, almost snake-like, out of whatever hold he'd been caught in. Josh also had the physical disadvantage of being ticklish, and Tyler felt no dishonor in jabbing him in the ribs, or wriggling fingers in his armpit. 

But the biggest difference that led to Tyler ‘winning’ more often was just simply their personalities. Tyler’s competitive nature didn’t accept an easy loss, whereas Josh would eventually roll over and let Tyler pin him. He knew Tyler would never surrender, and there was no way he’d ever do something that could hurt Tyler. Josh was gentle, easy going, which made it all the more disturbing to be shielding himself from punches swung by his best friend. 

Josh normally was practically incapable of violence, but there he was, trying his hardest to beat Tyler into another solar system. His face was empty except for the creases of strain on his brow as he aimed for Tyler’s head. The months of training had turned him into a formidable fighter, and Tyler had been thrown off his own axis so much, that he couldn’t organize himself into a counterattack.

He flailed and tried to get Josh off of him, trying to think of  _ something _ that may trigger Josh’s memory to recognize him. Tyler shouted his name, nicknames, the address of Josh’s childhood home, whatever he could think of, but nothing stopped him. 

Tyler’s mouth filled with blood, and he spluttered, coughing. He shoved his knees up to jab Josh in the stomach, and even kicked him in the crotch. It worked briefly, Josh backed off and Tyler scrambled away, though there was nowhere to hide. 

“Josh… Josh, please.” Tyler begged, offering his hands up in surrender. Josh stalked towards him, and Tyler knew this was the final tussle. He tried again to crawl away, but hands grabbed him. 

The smear of color before his eyes told that it was Josh’s right arm that folded over his neck and squeezed. His trachea compressed and Tyler began to suffocate. He couldn’t get any more words out. There was no hope for a movie-magic cure; Josh’s brainwashing wasn’t going to disappear that easily. 

Tyler clawed Josh’s arm, but he held even tighter. Black spots sprang before his eyes and the oxygen was nearly all gone from his body. He asked God if this was how he was going to die; to have been stolen and survived most of training for this alien army, and then die at the hands of his best friend. 

His last view before going unconscious was of his disappointed platoon, watching without care for his well-being. They were all expendable. The aliens of all different shapes and sizes and colors in the rainbow were washed out, drab greens and greys dominated the soldiers, the dirty, rocky terrain, and a sky that was illuminated but with no sun. 

His body shuddered and in a great rushing sound— blood pounding in his ears, Tyler passed out.

* * *

 

_ “What the hell—” _

_ “I can’t move!” _

_ “Tyler, I’ve got you. Hold onto my hand!” _

_ “What’s happening?” _

_ “I don’t— don’t let go!” _

_ “Josh!” _

* * *

 

Tyler wasn’t allowed to stay unconscious. He woke with the memories of their screams in his head, and a splash of liquid to the face— the closest equivalent to water they had out here. It tasted and behaved the same as on Earth, but the feel was oily and dripped down in a peculiar way. 

He focused on the droplets sliding down his neck and into the hollows of his collarbones. Tyler was too battered to stand, muscles only twitching slightly at the command of his leader to stand. He was sprawled on his back, the leader still screaming down at him and splashing more liquid upon him. The air was humid, the sky milky-green with a blanket of oppressive clouds.

Other fights were still going on, but the grunts were too distant to bother him.  _ Josh… _ Josh had been there. Was he still watching? 

Giving up, the leader shouted at two other soldiers to drag Tyler off to where other injured fighters were recovering. The tinkle of pebbles as his body was pulled was almost musical, his head fuzzier than he realized. He ached so much all over that the tug upon his sore arms and bumping of his body over larger rocks barely reached his conscious. Josh had done a number on him, and Tyler felt each bruise like the phantom of knuckles upon his skin. 

But it was proof. Evidence that Josh wasn’t imagined, that he wasn’t a nightmare. For as comforting as it was to know there was someone he knew somewhere in this solar system, he didn’t  _ want _ anyone he loved to be trapped in this conscription, and especially to be mind controlled worse than he. 

It made the escape all the more complicated, and Tyler milked the time he needed to recover just to have time to plan. He stayed prone and stared at the sky, knowing there probably wasn’t much time before he would be made to march back to the group.

What needed to happened was laid out simply for him; corner Josh, disarm his conductor chip, remove both his and Josh’s controllers and trackers, steal a spaceship— preferably one of the speedy pods they were transported from the main ship to planets. Those were outfitted to prepared them for war— a ship they may spend a few days or even a couple weeks when being transported to remote locations covertly. It seemed to make sense, but achieving all this would be a whole different matter.

The parts of the plan were there, and it was almost too perfect. The captains had such faith in the mind chips that they thought there was no chance anyone could run away, or at least that’s the impression Tyler got from x-k267. He also figured he had enough of a general idea of how to operate the little ships from their brief training session and also watching the transporters as they flew back and forth for planetary exercises— those trips usually lasted a few days. However, grabbing a scanner would give them both such invaluable knowledge, or else they’d be lost even trying to get home. 

He just had to get Josh alone first, and that seemed to be the most unlikely thing he needed to accomplish. The rest he could picture himself doing, which could’ve been the woozy after effects of the fight talking. It seemed almost achievable, even as he lay in the pebbles between groaning soldiers. But finding Josh again under these conditions— so many hundreds of soldiers in these big war games— was frankly impossible. 

“What’s your platoon name?” Tyler asked a green lizard-looking person next to him. He didn’t recognize them, which meant they were from Josh’s group. With a grunt of pain, the lizard said some syllables that made no sense, but Tyler memorized. He needed to know who to watch, what words to listen for in the roll call before the large battle exercise. 

Tyler lifted his head to look where the other platoon— Josh’s platoon— was gathered, just a short distance away. It was Josh— it was definitely him standing there, though his ramrod straight, unmoving posture was uncharacteristic of him. The prominent outturn of his feet was something so intrinsically  _ Josh _ though, undeniably him and tied with just how his body was built. Tyler felt the slightest hint of a smile reach his mouth. Seeing a little oasis of  _ home  _ in this strange galaxy, no matter how awful the situation, was comforting nevertheless.

* * *

His captain was actually in a good mood after all the fights were done—despite Tyler’s failure, most of the other soldiers had won their bouts. They even got a little extra food, which helped Tyler feel better from the beating he took. Each platoon stayed in their own circle on the large plateau, gear stacked like a bonfire in the middle of the group. They’d be sleeping beneath the milky drab green sky that night; Tyler wondered if this was his last night with the army. Would he be flying off with Josh in tow, or would he be shot as a traitor?

Tyler felt Josh’s pull like gravity between celestial bodies. Even though Josh didn’t recognize him, Tyler  _ needed _ to be close to him. To make sure that he was there, to absorb his presence—as bittersweet as that was.

He made his excuses—bathroom run to the outcropping of rocks just on the edge of the stadium-like lights that illuminated their camp. Semi darkness, creeping carefully so as not to bump into anyone else while they did their business.

On his way there and back, Tyler made sure to linger and get a little lost. He wandered between the circles, ignoring the eye-catching body parts and structures of the other soldiers, just searching and searching for his best friend.

He found Josh between two of those green aliens, eating his rations mechanically. The lights cast his pale skin into a ghost-like glow. Josh looked like an apparition of what Tyler had dreams and nightmares about. He stared ahead, and Tyler was reminded of nights where Josh had slipped away from his own body. It was when they were getting bigger, and Josh’s anxiety overwhelmed him. The realization that it had moved beyond ‘will we ever make it?’ to ‘how can we keep people around?’ had petrified both of them, and Tyler had his own methods of coping.

Josh had acquired that thousand-mile stare, and it terrified Tyler how still and pale he would get, gnawing his lip if he didn’t have gum to take the brunt of his teeth. All attempts to engage him would fall short. Josh’s eyes stayed out of focus and his words never made it past his lips.

Tyler had learned that Josh just needed something tactile to ground him. An arm around his shoulders; no words or questions asked. Just Tyler’s body against his, sometimes humming—eventually Josh would unwind and go limp against him.

He wanted nothing more than those very touches, to find his own home and comfort in Josh’s skin. Tyler searched his brain for an excuse, some way to strike up a conversation with him. He faltered, not wanting to arouse suspicion and terrified that he’d get no response from a mind-controlled Josh. 

It took so much for Tyler to reach out and tap Josh on the shoulder, knowing he was taking a big risk. 

“Hey.” Tyler began, faltering as Josh stood and turned to face him. “Good fight earlier. You really beat the crap outta me.”

Josh cocked his head to the side. “Good… fight? You lost.”

His eyes were glazed; Tyler had become familiar with the look of someone completely under the control of the loop. Overall, he seemed healthy. They were fed enough, and if anything, the training regimen had given both of them new muscles. But that wasn’t all that mattered, and Tyler wanted to kill every Kryptich on that ship, every officer in the army, and anyone who caused the very essence of Josh to be wiped away.

Tyler nodded at him, it suddenly being too painful to even look at Josh. The inability to take action; to save Josh, to hurt someone, to even just hug him— it was ripping Tyler apart, and he knew he was teetering on the edge of doing something desperate and foolish.

“See you on the battlefield tomorrow.” Tyler departed, memorizing every step between the two platoons.

His head rung with the interaction, and the plan that he knew had to be done  _ now _ . Tyler’s entire being was focused on everything  _ Josh _ . His best friend. His bandmate. The person who knew him better than anyone else in the entire universe. 

Tyler was going to move mountains and destroy stars to bring Josh back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *massive amounts of evil laughter* shoutout to flightlessnerds who thought Josh was going to be the one to swoop in and save Tyler. 
> 
> So... how do you all like My Blood?


	5. Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _If you find yourself in a lion's den  
>  I'll jump right in and pull my pin_

“e-j1, wake up.”

Tyler roused quickly— he had never fully gone to sleep ever since he’d woken up in captivity. Everyone needed to stay on their guard, ready for the captain’s commands; attack drills that one day were going to be too real.

He blinked up at the blue shape until the form of x-k267 crouched over him came into focus.

“If one were to escape, ship 117 at coordinates 68532-32771 is unfortunately unsecured and accessible  for anyone with Earth DNA, and there’s several months worth of rations onboard.” She informed him matter-of-factly. “Good luck in the final battle today. May I never see you again.”

Tyler tilted his head incrementally, not daring to alert anyone around him to the significance of her words. x-k267 would be the only person he’d miss. He wondered how many other soldiers in his predicament did she help to escape; the ease at which she’d guided him hinted that she hopefully had a good track record of survival.

Then again, it was better assuming and not actually knowing.

Sleep was impossible after that bit of good news as well as from the ache of bruises on his face and neck. Tyler went over the plan again and again, from what little he knew of the day’s events.

First, allow the battle to start to unfold, disappear into the chaos all while getting closer and closer to Josh. The captains said that their platoons were going to be allied in this exercise, which made it easier.

Second, when the moment is right, corner Josh, break his control loop and remove both of their tracking devices. Tyler was terrified about this part. After that fight, it was obvious how strong Josh was —Tyler needed the element of surprise to get him unconscious, and who’s to say that Josh wouldn’t be severely hurt or even killed by Tyler’s actions. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he caused Josh’s death.

Finally, they’d have to move quick to get onto the ship and leave before anyone noticed the connection was broken and they’d gone rogue. The mass battle drill would be distraction enough, and all this had to happen then. Once their escape ship left, they’d have to leap into lightspeed before interception could be summoned. 

So many parts had to align and move smoothly, and at some point Tyler would have to acquire a scanner. He’d do anything to get one, and he said he would kill without hesitation, but Tyler wondered if when the time came, he’d be able to pull the trigger.

Tyler believed wholeheartedly that Josh  _ had to _ come with him. There was no way that he could escape and leave Josh to die enslaved in this army of death. But a nagging part of him asked if maybe Josh would be safer if left there.

The doubt crept into his mind, the terrible dark part of Tyler that always said the worst things, that could prey easily upon his his insecurities. He was almost thankful of the night ending and this planet’s sunrise. Less time to worry, it was the moment of truth and action. Tyler ‘woke’ with the others, and fell in line.

He was used to marching even though no orders controlled him. Tyler could fake it for just a while longer. 

He was ready.

* * *

Tyler forced himself to pay attention to every detail of the plan that the captains barked at them. Their platoon had joined a larger company, thankfully including Josh’s platoon. Tyler kept his friend in his eye line, noting every movement from his ramrod-straight stance. They had to stick fairly close together through this Capture-the-Flag for their lives.

Everyone was outfitted with their gear and blasters, and directed through projections on makeshift screens to where their squads needed to move. Tyler not only had to memorize his direction and Josh’s, but also find where the most opportune moment was to break away—maybe fake an injury, he considered—and get to Josh. 

The captains had a map of the general topography, and Josh’s non-Kryptich captain—Tyler didn’t know the species— pointed out their path. 

“We will be dividing into four sections to attack from all sides, using the landscape as our protection.” She highlighted ridges with a laser pointer. “My platoon and—” the syllables Tyler shortened to ‘Cracker Jack’—“will be passing from the south along this canyon. They will take the lower path and we shall make our way across the canyon walls.”

Close—but still separated. From what else Tyler heard of the strategy, that canyon march would be the optimal moment to escape. All he needed was a good distraction. 

* * *

The sun had risen and the day had turned hotter than the one before it. Tyler’s neck was soaked with perspiration and his back was damp from the humidity of the pack weighing him down. They had marched in worse deserts before, but the pressure was smothering him this time. Before finding Josh, Tyler only had his own drive to stay alive to keep him moving forward. Oftentimes that couldn’t be relied upon. With Josh’s fate tied to his own strength and cunning, Tyler worried he would be unable to save both of them.

A warm wind blew across Tyler’s face, bringing with it only the slightest relief from the heat, as well as the sounds of distant blasters— somewhere not too far, there was a skirmish happening. Tyler looked at the ridge above them, trying to sense where exactly Josh may be. The two groups were supposed to be mirroring each other’s locations, though only the captains had the tracking monitors and could see where they really were. Tyler just had to have faith that when he made his move, they wouldn’t be far off.

The grey-green cliffs didn’t seem all that high, and paths were cut into the rocky outcroppings right to the trail that Josh’s group was following. Tyler would be able to get up there, it was just a matter of  _ when. _

“Halt!” hissed his captain, and all the soldiers dropped to the ground per their nearly complete training. “I see an enemy squad.”

They waited, tense. Tyler was crouched behind a large boulder and his focus darted around; looking for the other platoons, assessing where the captain was—just a few feet away, and also noticing the trail climbing up the hill that was mere yards away from where they were hiding.

“Do not engage.” The captain kept hissing. And Tyler got flashes of all the beatings he took. The casual blows to the face, getting yanked out of bed and slammed to the floor, the name calling and food deprivation. The captain was a Kryptich and more than guilty of the brutalization of soldiers under his command. He was cruel, and Tyler feared him.

Tyler had wanted him dead for so long. He had directed so much of his pain and anger at this whole ordeal on this captain, fantasized about murdering him, that it was a miracle Tyler didn’t set his blaster to ‘Kill’ when he shot him in the back.

So many things happened at once, and thankfully the other soldiers didn’t shoot him immediately, due to a combination of shock and lack of programming to deal with the unlikely event that a soldier would attack a leader. Mutual hatred of their captain probably stalled their reaction as well. 

After Tyler had made the shot, he flashed a signal light to the ‘enemy’ who started coming towards with speed them after the shot rang out.

Tyler grabbed the scanner and navigator that were attached to the unconscious Kryptich’s belt, and then sprinted to the path just as the opposing team’s blaster beams started to rain down on their leaderless platoon. He only felt the slightest bit of guilt for causing them to be caught in a mismatched shootout; there was a more important mission for him to accomplish today.

His body so much more fit than when he left Earth, Tyler barely felt winded as he reached the top. Adrenaline carried him too—the excitement of  _ finally _ doing something. He only had to jog around a corner to find Josh’s squad peering down at the chaos below. The view was partially obstructed, and Tyler hoped they wouldn’t recognize him as the soldier who turned on his own platoon.

Immediately everyone pointed their guns at him, and Tyler raised his hands.

“I’m on your side!” He exclaimed. “We were ambushed down below and— and my captain sent me up here to warn you all that you must turn back. The way ahead is blocked by the enemy.”

“I didn’t receive any message of the sort. Why are you not down there with your platoon?” The captain seemed ready to knock him out, rightfully mistrustful. 

Tyler knew he had to keep speaking fast, hitting them with too much information to question. 

“There was no time. They swarmed us. I’m the fastest of my group and right next to the path back there. My captain sent me. C’mon we’ve got to head back and circle a different way.” 

Tyler started moving, following the trail where they had come. He was waiting for a blaster shot between the shoulder blades and for his entire plan to fall apart. If he was taken back to the base, they’d find out that he was the one that turned traitor. Tyler had no idea what they did to traitors but it would certainly mean that they would force his mind control chips to work, and there would go all hope of Josh and him ever escaping.

But the blast didn’t come. The squad began to follow him and the captain brushed past, clearly wanting to take over this change in plan. He let her, the new path bought him some time to think how to separate Josh from the rest. 

“ _ Assets _ .” He thought, trying to keep the desperation out of his mind. “ _ What assets do I have to my advantage right now?” _

His blaster. Three stun grenades. Rope. Water. Tarp for a temporary shelter. Three days of rations. Fire starting equipment. First aid kit. The ‘cool space version’ of a flashlight and gas mask. The scanner. The navigator which showed their exact location and how far they were from the escape ship. A knife. 

The element of surprise. 

This mission was supposed to be a short campaign exercise, wasn’t supposed to last a full three days—two at the absolute most. The extra equipment was mostly to strengthen them and get used to carrying a full pack. 

Knock out the squad, but save Josh. He snuck a peek at the navigator, and then keyed in the coordinates he wanted. Kryptich distances were still a concept he didn’t fully understand, but by what he could figure out, the ship was about an hour’s walk due east—a little north of their camp. They were actually making good time back, but Tyler needed to shake everyone off sooner. He held back in his marching, keeping an eye on Josh and the leader. 

The captain kept speaking into her comm system, and Tyler strained to hear what she was reporting. Even picking up his pace to bring himself closer to her didn’t change what he could understand, so he hung back again—better to observe and also easier to slip away. Josh kept to the general pack of soldiers, walking with singular focus. 

Tyler guessed correctly that the leader was strategizing with the other captains. Now that his squad was taken out, they had to readjust their course. Tyler knew that their movement would change and he had to be ready…

He thumbed a stun grenade on his belt. Depending how close to the blast, it would either knock everyone unconscious or close enough that they were unaware of what was going on. It would be the right moment to grab Josh as well. How to time it… how to time it…

“Halt.” The captain commanded and they all stopped. Tyler knew then that the instructions had changed. “We will be climbing up to the main plateau. There’s been a breach in the enemy’s defenses and we are able to cross directly to the rendezvous point with the remaining squads.”

A path was cut into the grey-green wall of the mountain, much like the one Tyler had ascended before. One-by-one, they started to climb and Tyler hung back, making it look like he was relieving himself all while checking the navigator. It had been automatically uploaded with the new destination—they must not have realized that Tyler had stolen it. It seemed equidistant to his escape ship, and there were two squads not far from them. He had to act fast before more people came to complicate the situation. 

He detached the grenade from his belt, concealing it in his fist. No one was looking back anyway— they had no suspicions. The soldier in front of him was the same species as x-k267, and Tyler felt a pang that he’d be leaving her behind. She had kept him safe, fed, and given him the keys to escape. She would be the only person that Tyler would miss. 

The blue-skinned soldier ahead of him disappeared over the edge—it was time.

Tyler prayed; he hadn’t done that since he’d been captured. Being galaxies away from Earth had revealed a universe that was cold and violent. His ties with everything he had known were severed so abruptly that anything he believed before, God most of all, seemed to be weak against the distance of space. That God couldn’t hear him so far away from home. But about to do the most dangerous thing he had ever done, Tyler knew he needed all the help he could call in.

He activated the grenade. Tyler knew it was engineered to explode on impact, but still he moved quickly. Peeking quickly on top of the plateau, he got a sense of where the squad was standing a few yards away. He threw right into the midst of them, and then dove down the trail as far as he could get in the short time.

The explosion’s concussion caused rocks to cascade off the edge and tumble towards Tyler. He flattened himself to a crevice, holding on so he wouldn’t be pushed off the path to crash down below. He felt shaken by the explosion, slightly stunned himself. He was closer to the blast than what was advised, and Tyler had to push through the high-pitched ringing in his ears to climb up over the ledge.

If it was a real bomb, there would be mass carnage on the plateau. Forty or so bodies were strewn across the ground, flung from where they had been standing. The grenade had even more of a kick than he expected, if the tinnitus in Tyler’s ears was enough to go on. He jogged closer, picking Josh from the group.

He had his blaster at the ready to shoot anyone who moved, but it wasn’t necessary. In fact, if he hadn’t seen them breathing slowly, Tyler would’ve panicked that he killed them all. He was trying his best not to leave a trail of fatalities in his wake, but if needed to be done, he hoped that he’d make the right decision.

Josh had landed in an uncomfortable position face down with his left arm folded awkwardly under his body. Tyler quickly rolled him over, and sighed with relief that Josh too was still breathing and seemed unharmed besides being knocked unconscious.

If he wasn’t so preoccupied with the mission at hand, Tyler would’ve stopped to fully appreciate how soothing it was to actually  _ touch _ Josh after all these months. They’d have time later—after they escaped, Tyler told himself. In the spaceship on their way home. That was the goal.

His instructions were to temporarily deactivate the control conductor by shooting Josh’s head directly. Tyler didn’t want to chance it by relying on the grenade blast to have knocked out Josh completely. 

“Shoot the conductor. Remove the tracker… then the controller.” Tyler muttered to himself, checking the settings on his blaster three times. It was set to ‘stun’. The first aid kit and his backpack were next to him as he kneeled over Josh.

He lined up with the now months-old scar on top of Josh’s head and didn’t hesitate. Tyler purposefully ignored the memories of fake-shooting Josh on stage or in photos. That life didn’t even seem real anymore.

There was barely a flash as the beam of light hit Josh. His head jerked, but nothing else happened. Tyler didn’t know what he expected, but there was no time to waste wondering. The other squads on the tracker could be passing by at some point—though what to do with Josh’s unconscious body as they tried to escape would have to be addressed soon.

“I’m so sorry, Jishwa.” Tyler unsheathed his knife and lifted his friend’s shirt up to to his sternum to reveal the next scar. He rubbed, feeling out the edges of the chip implanted there. 

Carefully, not daring to breathe, Tyler sliced into Josh’s chest. He didn’t have to cut deep, but blood immediately welled up behind the knife’s path. Josh’s hand twitched, but Tyler barely acknowledged it. The chip stood out black with a tiny green light against all the skin and red. Dare he tug that out first? How much force would it take?

Tyler remembered x-k267 saying that the chips needed to be removed around the same time. 

“Might as well open you up in both places.” Tyler told Josh, and wiped away some blood with the Kryptich version of gauze. There was some clotting agent in there that slowed the bleeding.

He was careful to keep the incision from getting dirty as he rolled Josh onto his side, just enough for him to see the third and fourth scar. Like with the chip on Josh’s chest, Tyler felt for the bumps. Again, he prayed x-k267 was right that the upper chip was the controller. Their fate was in her hands.

Tyler cut again, and found the edge of the chip. The moment of truth had arrived.

He pulled Josh into his lap— right hand on the tracker, the other collecting a pool of blood from the back of Josh’s head. His fingers clasped the supposed controller chip. Tyler prayed for another moment, and then  _ tugged _ at Josh’s bone.

It dislodged cleanly. Tyler watched the light in the chip die, before remembering the next task. It was too close to Josh’s brain for Tyler to even think about messing up. He rolled Josh over again, and used both hands to pull the controller out. 

Josh screamed and thrashed in Tyler’s lap.

“Careful, Josh! Careful!” Tyler shouted, trying to hold him down so he wouldn’t hurt either of them. Josh’s flailing foot kicked the first aid kit away. Blood was getting everywhere. 

“Josh!” Tyler said again. 

The first noises out of Josh’s mouth were barely words. “I— Ah!—Hurt—Where?—T—Ty—No!”

“Josh, it’s me. It’s Tyler. I’m here. I’m here.” Tyler repeated over and over, and eventually his writhing friend noticed his face right above him.

“T— Tyler!” Josh reached for him.

“Yes! It’s me. I’m here.” Tears were rolling freely down Tyler’s face. Josh recognized him! He knew him!

“We’re… In space?” Josh asked. “I remember— We’re in a battle? What happened?”

“Yeah we are, but no time to explain. How do you feel? Can you sit up?” Tyler helped Josh to move. He looked very pale and tremulous, but was already shaking that off. 

“Not really feeling great, but I remember aliens? This isn’t a dream, right? This is all really happening?”

“Ye-es.” Tyler said, drawn out. “Just follow me. I’ve got a plan. But first—” He picked up the knife. “Get some more gauze from there and clean yourself off. Save me some. I need to get my chips out too.” Tyler pulled off his shirt.

“You— You’re not…” Josh watched open mouthed as Tyler turned the knife on himself. “Dude…”

Even with the pain of the wound, Tyler could have laughed with how  _ Josh _ that reaction was. He tried not to get dizzy from looking at the green light in the middle of his chest. But as he reached around for the next chip, Josh grabbed his arm. 

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you— Where do you need me to cut?”

Tyler talked him through it, and held back his curses when Josh dug in. 

“Guess we’re even now.  You owed me for beating me up.” Tyler said through gritted teeth.

“Huh?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Tyler replied. “Do you see a black chip?” 

“Yeah!” Tyler felt a tug.

“No! Not yet!” He shouted. “I pull the one on my chest out first, then you.”

He panted slightly, telling the pain to keep him sharp and ready. Just like with Josh’s chip, Tyler grasped it firmly in his fingers and yanked it straight out. It didn’t feel like anything— bones had no nerves after all.

“Now, Josh!” 

That chip  _ hurt _ .

Tyler fell to his knees hard. The pain had rocketed through his head, and he lost all sense for a minute at least. He came to on all fours, Josh crouched next to him. If it was possible, he looked even more terrified.

“Tyler?” He whispered, hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m okay- I’m okay- I’m okay.” Tyler insisted, his body shaking worse than the time he had a fever so high they’d gone to the Emergency Room together. It was some time in 2011 or 2012, it was hard to remember now, but Josh had stayed with him all night as he was half-delirious. Tyler had thought that time was the sickest he ever would be, but pulling that chip out may have to replace it.

He sat back, breathing deeply and talking himself silently through what they had to do next. How could he explain to Josh that this was far from over?

Someone groaned from the pile of unconscious soldiers, and Tyler quickly grabbed his blaster and leapt up. He shot the stirring figure at the same time as another blast rang out next to him. 

Josh had reacted at the same time. 

“I figured we wanted everyone to stay out.” He said simply, and Tyler admired how loyal he was. No questions, just complete trust that Tyler was there to help him. There they were, standing on some faraway planet, covered in their own blood, and grinning at each other.

“How, by the way?” Josh gestured to his former platoon.

“Man, I’ve got a lot to tell you. But we’ve got to get a move on.” Tyler laughed wryly as he put his shirt back on. “Wait! Something else really cool first…”

He pulled out the scanner. “This is how we’re gonna learn how to fly a UFO.”

Josh was in awe. “Dude. Sick. This may be the worst and best day of my life.”

Tyler fiddled with some dials while Josh patted him down with gauze—different skills popped up on the screen like ‘Spacesuits’, ‘Edible Plant Species’, ‘Advanced Ballistics’. He was definitely going to upload more to his brain, but first.

‘Advanced Spacecraft Operation’.

“C’mere.” Tyler tugged at Josh’s hand. He spun him around to look at the back of his neck. The bleeding had stopped thanks to the special gauze, but he wasn’t interested in the empty space. The lower bump— the data chip; Tyler held the scanner and just like a barcode reader, he directed a red beam to Josh’s neck.

“ _ Weird! _ ” Josh exclaimed. “I feel it, like, I dunno...beeping.  _ In my brain _ .”

The scanner buzzed and then clicked as it finished. 

“I think it worked.” Josh said. “I’ll know when we get to a spaceship.”

“My turn!” Tyler pushed the scanner into his hands.

Josh was right about the beeping. It was a strange sensation, but not painful, thankfully. It happened quick enough, because once again more soldiers were starting to move. The platoon would be waking up very soon and there was no way they could take on 30 trained soldiers.

Josh and Tyler looked at each other and then began shooting. 

“We’ve gotta get outta here.” Tyler checked the navigator. The two squads were about 15 minutes south of them.

They grabbed their packs, and ran just to get distance between them and everyone else. Their months of boot camp had helped their endurance, and Tyler couldn’t remember ever running this far this fast. Josh had been into running for years, but Tyler preferred playing sports. They kept pace with each other and Tyler felt like they must have traveled a few miles before he couldn’t keep up any more.

The plateau was mostly clear except for some waist-high rocks that littered the plain. The soil was rocky; reminiscent of a high school track— easy to run. 

They weren’t far off, and they hiked quickly, not saying much. Tyler had so many things he needed to share, was so giddy; even though they weren’t completely free, he had his best friend  _ right there _ and neither of them were under mind control at the moment. Josh’s face was serious and focused, but it was probably the best sight Tyler had ever seen. 

Sweat dripped down both their brows, and it was humid between their uniforms and backpacks. They were running for their lives. Tyler didn’t see any nearby dots on the navigator, but he knew full well that the opposite team’s locations weren’t on the screen. Most of the fighting was behind them, but who’s to say that there would be a squad passing through this region— Josh and Tyler kept looking around as a spot on the horizon grew bigger.

The ship.

“There it is!” Tyler cheered, pointing unnecessarily and they both began to run again.

They were almost to the ship, about 15 yards away, when a blaster shot nearly hit Tyler from behind. A second grazed his left arm and a white-hot pain seared his skin. 

Someone had found them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops sorry not sorry about the cliffhanger. stay tuned
> 
> hearing the grenade reference in My Blood shook me because I already had this chapter written and damn. Tyler are you reading my files?


	6. escape

The third shot would’ve hit Josh if he hadn’t dropped down a split second before. The crunch of boots behind them felt too close. They dodged around rocks, avoiding the spray of blaster beams before vaulting over two large rocks to crouched behind. 

Someone had come after them and they hadn’t realized. Another blast went over the boulders and Tyler peeked around the side. He knew immediately who it was. 

His captain limbed quickly along despite his massive size and injury from Tyler shooting him before. He was a horrifying sight with spit flying from his tusked mouth as he panted. 

“Surrender now, e-j1 or I will execute you and your fellow Earthling.” He was a mere 20 feet away, barely trying to stay hidden. His arrogance disgusted Tyler. Did he believe that Tyler was so afraid, so weak that he wouldn’t try to shoot back?

Tyler didn’t say anything. He couldn’t see Josh and silently prayed that he’d stay hidden and not do anything stupid. Tyler was the one who needed to be rash; this was his fault after all. He fiddled with his blaster, getting ready to take his shot.

“They’re coming to get you. I knew what happened as soon as I woke up. You— you little shit have always been weak. There’s no way you’d survive. Once my navigator was gone and you were nowhere to be found, we knew you must be coming up here. You idiot. We are all coming to get you, now. And you will  _ wish _ you were still infantry when we’re done with you. You’re never escaping— You’re ours forev—”

Tyler couldn’t let that happen. He was either leaving this planet or dying on this spot.

So he stood up and took the shot as the captain’s blaster narrowly missed him again.

Once again, he hit his captain directly, but this time the blaster wasn’t set to ‘stun’. Tyler had fallen to temptation, finally eliminating his main tormenter.

Josh stood up too, looking at the dead body that had just threatened them moments before. His mouth hung open. 

“Y-you killed him?” Josh asked.

“Oh God… I did.” Tyler stared down at the knob on his blaster that was on the fatal setting. “I- I had to. Josh… I had to.” Tyler didn’t really want to, but… 

Did it make him as bad as the Kryptich, or even worse?

Josh walked towards him, reading his face perfectly. “It’s okay. Don’t… don’t cry. We can’t do that now. They’re coming.”

_ They’re coming _ .

They turned back to the ship, less jubilant than when they first saw it. 

“Let’s go.” Josh was the one to quietly return them to the situation.

Just like x-k267 said, the ship was unlocked. They didn’t celebrate; the navigator had lit up with approaching troops. Tyler threw himself behind the first seat in the cockpit, and Josh took the co-pilot’s position. They both paused, staring blankly at the control panel with its many buttons and screens and switches.

But like the translation software also imbedded into their brains, they began to decipher what needed to happen for the ship to take off. Automatically, they knew their roles and who to hit which button when. The engine had to prime and the jets had to start for them to make it out of the atmosphere.

“2 minutes 30 seconds.” Josh called out. 

Through the windshield, they could see rovers racing towards them across the plain.

Tyler gripped the control stick, the pain in his arm unnoticed, and Josh had a hand on the throttle. They were quickly losing time before the other captains were upon them. 

_ Bang! _

The first mortar shell hit the underside of the ship and rocked them slightly. 

“Are the shields up?” Tyler asked.

“Yep. We’ll be good for—” another mortar hit them. “Awhile. I think… Anyway, we can at least last the 30 seconds.”

The shells came even harder and faster. 

“I’m not worried about them. How quickly do you think the carrier will send ships after us?”

“Man, you know I  _ literally just _ woke up from a coma, pretty much. I barely—15 seconds.”

“Well, I guess we’re on a small enough ship. We’ve just gotta move like hell outta—”

“10, 9, 8…” Josh began to count down, and their grips got, if possible, even tighter. 

It was the fault of the soldiers who were trying to keep them from escaping if they so happened to be near the ship as the engines engaged. The ship shot out above them, scorching the ground and people behind them with the launch. The speed with which they travelled had them out of the atmosphere faster than any Earth rocket— the vessel barely shook from gravity’s pull.

Tyler kept the ship steady, veering around space debris as Josh flipped through the switches. There was nothing on their radar yet, except for the very distant outline of the carrier, which had been their home until… just now. 

“How’s your arm doing?” Josh asked, indicating the gash through Tyler’s sleeve that had barely bled since the beam had cauterized the wound. 

“Fine. Stings a bit.” 

The control panel indicated that they were officially ‘in space’ and outside the atmosphere of the planet. 

“Uh so where are we supposed to go from here? They’ll be chasing us soon.” Josh asked. 

“Crap.” Tyler said; his plan had extended to the escape but having somewhere to hide… He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Oh wait… I think the scanner had a navigation upload! Maybe that’ll tell us where we are, and where’s the next planet, and… and…” Tyler tossed the scanner to Josh, who fumbled around a little and briefly got the red light in his eyes, with a curse. Eventually he figured it out and the buzzing started and ended. 

It was as he handed it to Tyler that the radar lit up and started alarming for approaching hostiles. 

“They’re on us.” Tyler groaned. “Here. You take over piloting, I’ll shoot.”

“Aw, really?” Josh said. “But shooting sounds like fun.”

“Hmm, how many video games have I beat you in?” Tyler said with extreme sass, flipping the controls over. 

“All of them.” Josh said meekly. 

“Yeah, not to be a dick, but if we maybe wanna live. Let  _ the master _ handle this.” Tyler began firing the wing-mounted cannons with a flourish.  

“Can I maybe get the next battle? It’d be cool.” Josh steered them in a sharp dip and loop around to throw off the ships racing after them. He lined it up and Tyler knocked out two of the ten enemy ships that were shooting at them. 

“You better hope this is our only space battle.” Tyler replied, cheering as he hit another ship.  “How the heck are joking around right now? We’re fighting for our lives against freakin’  _ aliens _ , man. Aliens!”

“I don’t know.” Josh said almost cheerily back. “Look at it from my— _ ah! Got ‘em. _ Perspective. I barely remember what’s happened since we got captured and now I’m thrown right into it? Dude, I’m so scared and excited I might just crap my pants.”

“Please don’t. I don’t know if there’s a change of clothes on here.” Tyler laughed despite himself. 

They both knew it would be fun in hindsight if they weren't blown to smithereens, but the terror of the never-ending onslaught of more and more ships was overwhelming. In the time spent shooting down other ships—the more ships came after them. 

“I don’t know how to shake them off!” Tyler was getting more and more frustrated.  “Crap. I— How are we going to—?”

“Hey, do you think this ship goes to light speed?” Josh asked, tapping in some coordinates. “Oh, maybe this button.”

He hit it and both of them were thrown back in their seats. Just like in the science fiction movies, the stars melted into a thousand lines and they flew forward, breaking free. 

“Um, Josh. Where the heck are you taking us?” Tyler kept his voice even. 

“Dunno. Well, I know where, but _ I _ didn’t think of it. The chip—” He tapped the back of his head. “Told me that this planet… Visgosz is the best for us to jump to with how much fuel we have. Has a couple cities where we could refuel and maybe get some help.” 

“Whoa.” Tyler looked at him in utter surprise; not just that he had done all that, but also was coming up with a plan. “That’s awesome technology… I need that upload now.” 

In a few minutes, he scanned himself.  It was weird how he didn’t  _ feel _ like he had more knowledge, much like how it was with the language software. He didn’t  _ know _ he knew the language until he thought about it or heard it. Then the response was immediate. It would be nice when he got back to Earth to be able to understand every fan’s language, Tyler noted. 

It was like receiving a gentle nudge, a notification from the chip, that the ship would be in lightspeed for about 10 minutes. Neither had to say it aloud, they both leapt up out of their seats. 

“Let’s check what supplies we have.” Tyler said. They both were trained soldiers now; the lessons about maintaining one’s resources would not be forgotten. Even though Josh had no control over himself during that time, it had seeped into his brain permanently as well. 

The ship they had commandeered was a Kryptich-standard transport vessel that could hold twenty soldiers comfortably, which is why they usually crammed over forty onto it. Behind the cockpit were seats along the wall for the soldiers to be strapped into while half were kept in the bunk areas—each kept turn. Doors on either side of the cabin lead to the bathroom, storage, or sleeping quarters. Tyler was reminded of a submarine he toured as a kid with his family; everything was compact and stripped of any comfort. 

x-k267 had gotten them a lot of food, and Tyler was grateful for the packages upon packages of bars they found. The bars—standard issue for soldiers—were engineered to deliver maximum nutrients and could be rehydrated into a porridge that didn’t taste all that bad. Several first aid kits, a tent, and two changes of clothes—sparse but necessities. 

“We’re gonna have to get new clothes at the next city. These are all clearly military uniforms and if we’re on the run, we need to stay hidden.” Tyler said. 

“I wonder what kind of clothing they wear in this galaxy. What if they all go naked?” Josh replied. 

“Even easier.” Tyler wiggles his eyebrows. “You know, I’ve gotten super ripped during boot camp.”

“And yet I beat you up?”

“Uh, yeah. Not one of my proudest moments.” Tyler had kneeled to sift through a box of bars. 

“Not one of mine either.” Josh said quietly. “Dude, I’m… so, so sorry. And so embarrassed that like, I was under the alien’s control the whole time.”

Tyler looked up at Josh and pat his knee. “It’s okay. I’m really not that mad. You aren’t to blame for it. Really.”

“Jeez,  _ you saved me _ . I’m so grateful. You really were able to do alland save my ass.” Tyler shrugged as Josh gushed. “How come they weren’t able to brainwash you?”

Josh’s question went unanswered as bells began to ring that they were seconds away from exiting lightspeed. Both ran back to the controls, once again white knuckling as they fearfully anticipated what could possibly be waiting for them. Their getaway was far from clean the neither were sure that there wouldn’t be ships there waiting to capture them and take them back. 

The smooth ride of lightspeed changed to a quaking rumble, and the view began to unblur. 

“We should be landing right outside the atmosphere and then we can—ahh!” Josh started shouting. 

They were entirely too close to the planet, hurtling past clouds to an expanse of pink. Both of them started cursing and Tyler yanked the control stick upwards to pull them out of the dive. The momentum took them back up out of the atmosphere and the ship slowed safely. 

“Well… this was where we were  _ supposed _ to stop.” Josh deadpanned and Tyler couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I think we both have some things to learn about flying rockets and stuff.” Tyler remarked. “The software doesn’t really tell you everything.”

Josh pressed a button and a 3-D hologram of Visgosz appeared, floating on the console in front of them. Dots glowed signifying cities and a blinking triangle indicated their position. 

“Cool…” They both exhaled and leaned closer. 

“I think all that pink was the ocean.” Tyler pointed. 

“Looks like my old hair.” Josh rubbed his head. “Feels weird so short.”

“Hey, now we’re egg twins!” Tyler reached over to rub his head as well. “Wait, uh, we should probably focus.”

“We probably shouldn’t land in a city.” Josh mused. “They probably won’t like anyone showing up in a Kryptich ship, and if we stay in their port, it probably will get back to the army.”

“Let’s try to find a forest or something… there!” Tyler stuck his finger into the green around a city, and found that the coordinates were transferred to the ship’s navigation system. “We can hide there, but also be close to town.”

They made their descent with much more control than their arrival. Tyler looked at the roads they soared over, seeing some vehicles of varying sizes traveling in either direction. The ship glided into a meadow, and it was agile and narrow enough to be tucked beneath the cover of the tree canopy. 

The ship’s noise decreased from the roar of its engines to a gentle hum. Josh and Tyler finally, finally let their bodies relax, exhaling slowly. Exhaustion hit them as the adrenaline left with their breath out. For the first time since leaving Earth, they felt safe. 

“Josh.” Tyler croaked out, everything welling up inside him and his throat constricting.  

Josh didn’t reply, just unbuckled and did the same to Tyler. He pulled him into his arms, and they embraced each other for a long time. Tyler let out a couple of dry sobs; fear, loneliness, despair boiling over and releasing as he found sanctuary protected by the strong, loving arms of his best friend. His scent wasn’t the same, the location was more foreign than anywhere any other human had been before, but home was Josh’s heart beating steadily next to his ear. 

Josh’s hand ran soothingly up and down Tyler’s back. “I’m here. We’re together.” He reassured him. “You’ve been so brave, but now you’re not alone.”

It was exactly what Tyler needed to hear. He hadn’t been allowed to be vulnerable for many months, and there was no one he trusted more than Josh. From stormy nights years ago where Tyler was barely clinging to a will to live, to surrounded by an extraterrestrial forest in a stolen ship—Josh was steady. Josh was the rock that grounded Tyler and together—once he wiped the tears—they would figure out their way home. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're free! we're free! god, I just love writing their dynamic and being silly with each other even though they're in the middle of a space battle
> 
> and we have new CONTENT. thank you mark for the behind the scenes footage.


	7. research

The nightclub pulsed—the music, the air, the bodies, the walls. Gravity’s touch was less on this planet. Everyone moved with grace, but bounced into one another. Boundaries slipped away and multicolored lights danced across skins of many textures and shades. Life’s masks faded and the breaths one took were filled with a chemical that loosened. Cares were lost along with propriety. 

The war that crossed galaxies had touched Visgosz, though it was only in dread and occasional blockades. It was a matter of time till the fighting came closer—already many of their own had been stolen and indentured into armies. Refugees passed through or were cordoned into special camps. The residents of Visgosz were kind, but that only extended to the limit of the fear. They had to ready themselves first and foremost. 

But at night and in the bars, worry could be forgotten for a time. 

Hands on hips and bodies made it easy for fingers to slip in pockets without notice. In a place where no one glanced twice, those with a plan could take advantage of the lax. 

“Josh, your legs are enough of a distraction.” Tyler didn’t bother whispering, since no one cared to listen in. They were passing by each other as they acquired different targets—Tyler preferred to brush against dancing couples while Josh stuck to  _ being _ part of a dancing couple. 

“I didn’t mean to.” Josh said indignantly and tugged at the hem of his outfit. 

They had been on Visgosz for almost three weeks and were quickly adapting. The bruises on Tyler’s face and the incisions from removing the chips had nearly healed. It had taken a few days for them to leave the ship—terrified that stepping outside for too long would bring Kryptich upon them, despite triple checking that all trackers were destroyed. So far, not a single enemy ship had been seen however, but that only encompassed a portion of their struggle.

* * *

 

Both had been touch-starved for the entirety of their captivity. Isolated, cold, and restless—Tyler hadn’t slept well in months. That first night in the forest, he would have thought that he’d crash for days but everything was suddenly too dark and too quiet. There was no engine or distant yelling to be the soundtrack to his half-sleep. 

His thoughts crashed in—did his family even miss him, had years gone by already and everyone had given up on him, would they be recaptured. Memories haunted him of torture and the death by his own hand. Tyler couldn’t even half-doze like he had on the ship. He was too busy waiting for bombs, or even worse—to discover he’d been dreaming and that they’d never left. 

But Josh was there to ground him. Appearing as if the constant grind of Tyler’s thoughts kept him awake just as much as they did Tyler. Josh joined him in the bunk, entwining together. 

Warm. Real. 

“Josh, you’re so…  _ thank you _ .” Tyler nestled close, feeling something radiating between them. He was being filled, a space he didn’t know was empty. Every inch was aligned and protected. Home. 

They both slept almost a whole day, finally. Every night since had found them sharing a bed, the only time they felt safe enough to stop the watch. 

Luck was on their side as they had landed in a forest that was largely uninhabited thanks to government preservation. The trees were ideal coverage; their branches with wide, flat leaves strong enough to walk along. One didn’t even have to touch the ground for miles—the canopy was its own passageway. Both perched up high and travelled carefully to the main road as lookouts for anyone who may have come hunting through the woods. 

There wasn’t much else for them to do but study the Visgoszians and their patterns. All Josh and Tyler had was what they knew and they equipment they acquired—it was a battle to try figuring out how it could be used to get them home. 

Surrounded by a mess of navigational holograms and notepages, they realized that escaping the Kryptich army was not the largest hurdle they would have to overcome. 

“Earth is... so far away from… anywhere.” Josh had whispered while the computer ran calculations—they would have to make many jumps between galaxies to come close enough to home. Months ahead of them, planets to stop for fuel—all while avoiding this war. 

“We can’t keep this ship.” Tyler said. They had stacked boxes to make a table between the cockpit seats, which swiveled to face each other. “It’s got all the markings—we’d be dead no matter who spots us. We’re either getting blown up for escaping or by the other side for looking like the enemy.”

“Yeah, okay, but how? With what money?” Josh replied and Tyler didn’t have much of an answer. 

“Steal?” He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. 

“I dunno…”

“We need clothes. We need a new ship. We need information, because there’s only so much we can get from the computers here. They’re all biased to the Kryptich. So yeah, Josh, we’ve gotta steal to survive.” 

The hours spent in the trees had been full of fretting over how daunting the universe was—everything they needed to do to get back to Earth. Tyler was on a razor’s edge, close to fraying apart under the unattainable. 

“Months… Months…” He said, more to himself. “And we’re going to have to refuel and reload. I thought this would be easier. That we could just be home free right  _ now. _ ”

“We’re gonna do it.” Josh said bracingly, grabbing Tyler by his shoulders across their makeshift table. “We’ve got each other, and dude, we already know we can do  _ anything _ as long as we’re together.”

“Your eternal optimism is… always appreciated.”

“That’s why you love me.”

And Tyler truly, truly did. He knew in hindsight that he would be dead if he had to do the journey alone. While it was still practically impossible, it would have been insurmountable without Josh. So many things they would have to do required two pairs of hands—working on and flying the ship, plotting out a route. It was Josh who had suggested they stop merely watching and try to go into the city—if it was Tyler alone, he didn’t know if he’d be brave enough to venture onward. 

Where Josh’s legs came into play, in a roundabout way—the people who passed by their hiding spot appeared to wear toga-like outfits. Robes draped around their bodies and fastened with intricate belts. It was easy enough to replicate with the green sheets from the bunk beds, and tied with rope they found in the storage hold. 

“We look… uh…” Josh, for once, didn’t seem like he could find a positive. 

“We look passable.” Tyler shrugged. 

More than just acceptable, they were supremely unnoticeable. They walked through the city unimpeded—cobbled streets with digital boards that swirled and changed with all different advertisers. Many people walking in different directions, chatting without concern under the warm sun. Josh lagged behind Tyler, eyes wide at every passing alien. Tyler had forgotten that Josh hadn’t had the time to consciously wonder at the diversity of intelligent species the universe held. 

The digital screens could be touched, they found with delight. Finally, there was name to the war and each side involved, and they read the latest reports. 

“The Republic and the…. Federation?” Josh squinted, disbelieving. “Tyler are we in  _ Star Wars _ ?”

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah, the Kryptich are part of this anti-Republic Federation saying that the Republic has all these unfair restrictions—other planets and species have risen up to fight. Been going on like 50 years… I don’t know how much that is in Earth time.”

“Any Jedis involved?” Tyler asked, only half-joking. 

Josh squinted and leaned closer to the screen. “Not that I see mentioned. Doesn’t mean that they aren’t out there. Hey, of the two of us, you’d definitely be the one to have the Force.”

“What does that make you?”

“Probably Jar Jar Binks.” 

“No way!” Tyler protested. “You’re too cool for that. You’re definitely Chewbacca.”

Josh put a hand to his chest and pulled a face of intense emotion. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I mean, you and Chewie are both really cuddly.” Tyler nudged him with his shoulder. 

“Excuse me, Chewie is too tough to cuddle.” Josh nudged back. 

“But you’re not.” Tyler reached out and squeezed his hand. 

Josh didn’t let go and neither did Tyler. It didn’t matter what this planet’s social customs allowed—in fact, no one cared. They continued on, wandering through the city holding hands as tethers to safety. If anything, they were able to relax and even have some fun observing. 

They still hadn’t acquired any money, though they saw the equivalent of cash pass between customer and vendor at the outdoor market. It came in the form of playing card-size chips that flashed how much they were worth in green numbers. 

“We could busk?” Josh suggested, as they passed by a musician playing a horn that sounded like a bass guitar. “I could find some buckets and you can sing. We  _ are  _ a band after all.”

“You know… that’s not a bad idea.” Tyler said appraisingly, looking back at the musician—he recognized the species as similar to one in his platoon—orange and purple with a snout like an elephant’s trunk. This one was playing the horn with her nose, indeed. 

“We’ve just got to check that we don’t need a license or anything to play on the streets. I don’t want us ending up in Visgoszian jail because someone doesn’t like  _ Holding On To You _ .”

“Dude! The backflip! It’s gonna be awesome in this lesser gravity.” Josh hopped for effect, ending up with his knees by Tyler’s face and off kilter since they were still holding hands. 

“Yo, get back down here, Bouncy Boy.” Tyler tugged his arm and Josh landed with as much grace as he was capable of—he nearly toppled over. 

“Bouncy Boy? New nickname?” Josh teased. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, man.” Tyler rolled his eyes and pulled him into a shop.

* * *

 

Tyler and Josh learned a lot during their city explorations. First off, the language setting in their chips was automatic, and everyone seemed to have some form of implant that gave them information and translations. It was necessary for survival in a universe that actually interacted between planets and solar systems. 

The more they moved through the city, the easier interacting with others became. Visgosz was a busy trading hub and money passed through very quickly. While Tyler and Josh found out that busking was encouraged with no necessary license, another more sordid way to make money emerged. 

Tyler was the one to find the bar, which both agreed was very ironic. The city was alive at all hours, but at night it changed its tone. Wilder, looser—pockets as well as the people. The first gizmet—the Visgoszian name for money—that they acquired was a massive moral hurdle. Slipping between dancers, each found their hands close to a bundle of gizmet temptingly visible. 

“I want to go home. I want to go home.” Tyler whispered to himself and made the first grab. 

The money was warm to touch, heated by the close contact with the real owner’s body. Tyler tried to be as subtle as possible as he fumbled with the chips to tuck them into his waistband. He made a mental note for them to bring a money pouch next time, if there was to be a next time.

Where Tyler preferred to sneak around, Josh’s approach was a little more direct. By a complete mistake, he had arranged his makeshift toga into a mini version, and ended up with more of a leg show than intended. It all worked to their advantage.

The two humans were exotic, unique. Fascinated clubgoers flocked to Josh especially, admiring.

“Your markings are beautiful.” A long-fingered Yleptoid whispered tantalizingly in Josh’s ear, the aforementioned digits tracing up the trunk of the tree. The pulse of the room shook through Josh’s feet to his ankles and up, up his spine. Everyone were reds and purples, and it matched the music; something mysterious and melancholy. 

Josh leaned closer on the pretense of arousal, and maybe that was what was making his skin priCkle, but his hand kept to the mission and found gizmet. Skin— possibly lips from another dancer brushed across the back of his neck, below the mostly healed incisions. Josh turned to the sensation, using the distraction to hand the package of money to his friend who watched with laser focus.

Tyler never liked the clubs on Earth, and being light-years away didn’t change that. Too many people—too close. Drinks passing between dancers; they came in the form of bubbles that exploded in one’s mouth with flavor and ‘alien alcohol’. Much like with liquor at home; drunken aliens meant more things falling to the floor. It was all easy pickings for them. Tyler shameless picked the pockets of Josh’s admirers as well. The game of it all distracted Tyler from his surroundings. It was just too easy, both had to avoid the other’s eyes or else they would keep breaking out into hysterical laughter. 

Tyler avoided the drinks, but Josh indulged with a few that were offered to him. As terrifying as this all was, he was living what he’d fantasized since he was a kid watching  _ X-Files _ late at night. A chance to see the universe—to go beyond anywhere another human had been before. He was really, really trying to enjoy himself as much as it was safe to, with Tyler’s eagle eyes upon him.

“Josh… Josh, no. Let’s go.” Tyler had to end the night for them, grabbing hold of his elbow. It was all escalating; they’d become carried away with the music and atmosphere. Josh had almost slipped away, guided by two of the four arms of a Ludnar towards a curtained corner. 

“But—” Josh protested.

“Bro-oo.” Tyler said fiercely. “You are not hooking up with an alien right now. That’s not happening. We’re going.”

Josh didn’t fight it, just waved sadly goodbye and flashed a ‘call me’ sign at the disappointed-looking person who likely had no idea what a cell phone was. Tyler just rolled his eyes and brought him back to the closest place to home they had all the way out there.

Since that first night sleeping close together, they had rearranged the bunkroom. Multiple mattresses stacked, blankets heaped together to form a nest where they still huddled together despite the extra space. Josh was the first to settle into the bed, but he left his arms open for Tyler to join him. Head resting on Josh’s chest; they had an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t repeat this when they got back. When.

But for now, Tyler could only sleep when he was touching Josh, and his weight was just as much of an anchor for Josh as well. Relaxed finally, rest was gift to them every time—each other’s presence; a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the slow burn begins. ahh feel the flames of jealousy and longing?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m teeentyonepilots on tumblr, and I have been working on this fic for many many moons. I started writing this before any of the Dema lore came out and it’s fascinated me the parallels I have already created, unintentionally. 
> 
> Thank you to all the friends who’ve accompanied me in this writing journey. You are the true heroes. 
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblr! I hope you’ve enjoyed the story!


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